


Bruised

by ScarletThread



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ambiguity, Angst, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Sometimes I Still Feel the Bruise, Song fic, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:12:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarletThread/pseuds/ScarletThread
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I had "Sometimes I Still Feel the Bruise" by The Mountain Goats stuck in my head, and I just had to write something about it, so this happened. I recommend that you listen to the song before you read this, because it might be more enjoyable and clearer, but there's no real need.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Bruised

**Author's Note:**

> I had "Sometimes I Still Feel the Bruise" by The Mountain Goats stuck in my head, and I just had to write something about it, so this happened. I recommend that you listen to the song before you read this, because it might be more enjoyable and clearer, but there's no real need.

They were sitting in a black car, one they'd hired on impulse. The speedometer read thirty miles per hour. Sunlight streamed smoothly through the shining windshield, catching in Sherlock's curls, though John didn't see; his eyes were on the road.

They'd needed to go somewhere, get away somehow. Be together not on a case, and not in the cramped comfort of the flat. John's bandaged fingers gripped the steering wheel. The road stretched on in front of them.

They weren't speaking, but the car wasn't silent. The radio was on, an indulgence they couldn't have in taxicabs, and didn't usually favor anyway. But the song was clear and melancholy, and they preferred it to strained conversation or heavy silence.

_I think of you from time to time_

John eased onto the shoulder of the deserted road. Candy-green grass shone on either side of them, stretching out farther than they thought possible so near to the city. As the rumble of the engine faded away, the song swelled in their ears. They remained where they were, still, and listening.

_I'm under no illusion as to what I meant to you_

"John."

He turned his head. Sherlock was facing forward, but his eyes were cast downward, unfocused on anything except thought.

"What is it," John answered in a weak whisper.

Dark curls were hanging in his face, the bright light reflecting in what John thought could be tears in his eyes.

_Sometimes I still feel the bruise_

His voice was slightly gruff, breathy. "John, while I was gone...did you miss me?"

John's eyebrows contracted, and he leaned forward. "Of course I did."

_Though you’ve appeared and disappeared_

Sherlock still refused to meet his gaze. A pearly tear traveled down his cheek, and the coarse cuff of his coat met his skin to sweep it away. John didn't look away.

"I mean...Would you really have wanted me with you?" He paused, but John didn't think he should answer yet. "All the cases, all the times I...I shouted or insulted you or put you in danger...Did you—do you really think you're better off with me, than without me?"

He finally looked up, the rims of his eyes pink and tight, looking much more fragile than he ever had, even when he'd been up on that rooftop.

Their eyes locked, deep and wet as oceans, and John wished he could make Sherlock understand everything he felt. Emotion was the only area where Sherlock had no real intuition.

Bandaged fingers met spidery pale ones. Sherlock bit his lip as they intertwined. "My life without you," John breathed, "was empty." Dark eyes flicked upwards to touch on his tearstained face. "You are everything I have ever wanted, Sherlock. Everything I need."

John's ensconced fingers were tender under the gentle pressure of Sherlock's. "I make you get hurt, John. I make you suffer. How do you need that?"

"That's not how I see it," he replied firmly. "You make me live. I'm more alive when I'm running after you in the middle of the night than I could ever be sitting in the most comfortable home by myself."

The corner of Sherlock's lip turned up. "Despite it all?"

"I love you. Despite it all." He grinned. "Or, maybe because of it."

Sherlock grinned back. Relieved lips met in the space between the seats, eyelids quivering with trapped tears. The bittersweet song was over, but the sun was still shining onto them, and a new, brighter tune filled the air as they continued down the road.


End file.
